


Eight Days of Wincest

by Mekina



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble Collection, Episode: s01e04 Phantom Traveler, Episode: s02e09 Croatoan, Episode: s03e11 Mystery Spot, Episode: s04e10 Heaven and Hell, Episode: s05e16 Dark Side of the Moon, Episode: s08e10 Torn and Frayed, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-26 12:05:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mekina/pseuds/Mekina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eight days, eight seasons, eight drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Flying

Sam tries to concentrate on the minutes ticking past, on keeping an eye on the other passengers, on anything but his brother practically vibrating with nervous tension. 

It gets to the point where he can’t ignore it any longer. Sam turns in his seat to face Dean, _cut it out_ on the tip of his tongue, but he stops when he sees Dean’s face.

Dean looks…terrified. It’s not often Sam sees fear plain on Dean’s face, but it’s there now. He’s pale and still and silent, gripping the armrests so hard his knuckles are white.

"Dean," softly, louder when he doesn’t get so much as a twitch in response. "Dean."

It would almost be funny, something so mundane as planes scaring Dean so bad when they face monstrous things everyday, if it didn’t hurt Sam to see his brother so scared.

Sam tries to get Dean’s attention again, and at last Dean shifts, meets his eyes. Doesn’t say anything, but Sam knows he’s seriously freaked out.

Instead of saying anything else, Sam takes Dean’s hand. He doesn’t care what Dean might say later, false bravado and mocking just because he feels like he has to, Sam won’t just sit there and let Dean go uncomforted. It’s not in him to just leave him alone and afraid.

Dean sucks in a sharp breath, getting it, and when another round of turbulence jostles the plane he squeezes Sam’s hand tight.


	2. Locked In

Dean knows even before he urges the small group of survivors out and locks the door behind them that he won’t be able to do it.

Sam is looking at him desperately, tearfully, probably imagining Dean shooting him and then himself. Dean has the guns.

He knows he won’t be able to do it.

Dean’s just not wired that away. He’s not capable of killing Sam. Hell, even if he walked into the motel room and found Sam surrounded by the bodies of dead civilians… Dean can almost imagine packing Sam off somewhere remote, the two of them in hiding for the rest of their lives if necessary, _but he can’t hurt Sam._

No matter how dark he might turn.

He doesn’t want to be infected, doesn’t want to be turned into a monster, but he can’t look his little brother in the eye and put a bullet in his head.

He’s sweating all over in the utter certainty that it’s only a matter of time before Sam isn’t Sammy anymore, before he’s going to try to take Dean down and infect him…

And Dean is going to let him.

Sam might not know it, but they’re both saved from becoming monsters when the doctor rushes back in.


	3. Again

Sam wakes up on the eighty-sixth Tuesday almost choking on his dread. It's like this every morning now, opening his eyes and knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that today is the day he loses Dean again.

Dean is bopping along to the music. Sam might have thought it was funny or even obnoxious at one time, but now he just watches and finds it hard to breathe.

His brother doesn't go into the bathroom this morning. He stops in the middle of lacing his boots and stares at Sam in concern. "Sammy? You okay?"

On other Tuesdays, Sam has faked it for Dean's sake, not wanting the short time he'll be be alive to be spent worrying about Sam. He can't, this morning. All he can do is look at Dean, eyeing him like he's going to disintegrate in front of his eyes (and he might, it hasn't happened yet but he might), eyes burning like he's going to cry even though there aren't any tears left in him.

Funny, that that doesn't get reset along with everything else.

Dean comes closer, leaning over Sam, and Sam pulls him down onto the bed, wrapping himself around Dean tight before he gets out so much a single protest.

"The hell?" Dean squirms slightly, but stills when Sam presses his face into Dean's neck. "Sam?" Dean goes straight into comfort mode when he feels Sam trembling, stroking his back and letting him pull Dean flush against his body. He makes quiet shushing noises into Sam's ear.

He takes shuddering breaths and tries to calm down. It's not happening. His heart is racing, his chest feels tight, he's struggling to breathe. Sam closes his eyes and concentrates on Dean, the feeling of those big hands rubbing circles on his back, the steady rise and fall as he breathes. They're pressed together tightly enough that he can feel every movement Dean makes. It's comforting.

Sam is lulled into a half asleep state, it takes him a minute for it to really process that Dean has fallen still.

He doesn't need to look to know. Sam squeezes his eyes shut tighter, arms wrapping around Dean, hugging him so hard it would leave behind marks, if there was going to be enough time left for bruises to form.

Before the world resets to the beginning of Tuesday again, Sam discovers he can still cry after all.


	4. Comfort

Dean's words are almost tangible, still hanging in the air. His confession about what happened to him in Hell, what he did in Hell.

Sam knows he's crying, knows Dean is crying, and even though it's the last thing he should probably do (after what Dean went through, sudden hugs from behind are probably the last thing he wants), he finds himself taking to steps over to Dean and wrapping him up in a hug, pressing his forehead to Dean's shoulder.

Dean's breath hitches in surprise, his hand coming to rest on Sam's arm around his middle. "Sammy," he sighs, and Sam can barely believe it, but Dean is leaning back into him a little.

It's only because it's such a vulnerable moment for Dean, but Sam is grateful for it, that even after Hell Dean still trusts him enough to let him so close.

"I don't care what they did. I don't care what they made you do." Sam closes his eyes, breathes in deep. "I don't care. It doesn't matter. You didn't have a choice."

He doesn't say anything else for now. Dean is listening, but not believing. He's silently blaming himself for everything, Sam knows.

It doesn't matter. He'll keep on telling Dean for the rest of their lives, if he has to.

He presses a kiss to Dean's shoulder and steps moves back, giving Dean some space. When he's ready, they'll carry on.


	5. Second Chance

The second the amulet slips from his fingers into the trashcan, Dean is regretting it. Angry at Sam or not, he never should have thrown it away. He wants to go back to get it, but by then they’re already in the car, driving away from that motel room (where Dean had to watch Sam die, again) in tense silence.

Things have been strained between them for months, and this has only made it worse. Sam keeps throwing him little looks when he thinks Dean isn’t paying attention. He looks so hurt.

Later, when Sam is in the shower, Dean goes looking for a clean pair of socks.

He feels a little bump in one of Sam’s rolled up pairs.

Breath quickening, hardly daring to believe, Dean traces a finger over the shape. He knows what it is before he’s even looked, but to be absolutely sure, he reaches in and pulls out the amulet.

Sam saved it. He went back and saved it, and here it is. 

He almost puts it on, but stops at the last second. Sam got it back out of the trash, took it with him, but he didn’t tell Dean he’d taken it. He must not want Dean to know.

The thought of why reaches Dean just as he hears the shower turning off. The first time Sam gave it to him, it was meant for Dad. Dad let Sam down, but Dean didn’t. He earned it.

Does Sam think he doesn’t deserve to wear it anymore?

The bathroom door opens. Sam comes out, stopping when he spots Dean with the amulet in his hand.

"You kept it." Dean rubs his thumb over the metal, doesn’t look at Sam. He doesn’t want to see whatever expression Sam has.

"I did." Sam crosses to him, reaches for it.

"Why didn’t you tell me? You didn’t say a word about it."

"I didn’t want you to just throw it away again. If you don’t want to wear it anymore, I…I get it, but let me hold onto it. Don’t throw it away."

Stunned, Dean meets Sam’s eyes. “I wouldn’t. I was mad, I still am, but Sammy, I made a mistake when I threw it away. I wouldn’t do it again.”

Dean gives him the amulet, lets Sam make the decision about whether he deserves to wear it anymore.

Sam takes it and puts it back around Dean’s neck. He wraps his fingers around it once it’s in place on Dean’s chest, just holding it. Dean puts his hand over Sam’s and they stand there together in silence for a long time.


	6. Cling

"Sammy," whispered against Sam's mouth, meant this time. It _is_ Sam, all Sam, his eyes soft and emotional instead of cold and calculating, his touch gentler, now.

Dean's no stranger to Sam being rough with him, usually gets off on it, but this is what he needs now. He needs Sam soft and loving after the way he was without his soul. So goddamn cold, like Dean never meant a thing to him.

They cling tightly to each other, together again, Dean not able to express in words what it means to have Sam whole and his again, letting Sam know with the way he kisses him, strokes his hair, holds him tight.

He breathes, "Mine," into Sam's skin, hears Sam mouth the word back against his chest, shakes apart with Sam holding him, keeping him grounded and in the moment. Together.


	7. Reality

Sam lurches across the motel room, hands stretched out for Dean. He catches Sam just as his brother crumples, shuddering and trembling against Dean.

"Sammy? Sam, look at me." Dean cradles Sam's face, anxiously staring into Sam's dazed eyes. "It's him, isn't it?"

Nodding into Dean's shoulder, Sam reaches for Dean's belt. He jerks back, startled.

"What are you doing?" There could hardly be a worse time than this, when Sam can barely distinguish between reality and hallucination.

Maybe that's the point, though.

Sam brushes their lips together, too distressed to make it into a proper kiss. "Need you, Dean. Need you to show me. Sh-show me you're real." Even if Dean hadn't already been close to giving in, the final word would have done it. _"Please."_

He's powerless after that to do anything but strip Sam out of his clothes and show him just how real he is. When Sam gets close, he grips Dean's shoulders, silently begging, and Dean knows Lucifer has gotten more insistent.

He hates to do it, every instinct rebelling against causing Sam any further pain with the state he's in, but Dean grabs Sam's hand, digging his nails into the scar sharply.

It's all Sam needs to lose it, moaning like he's dying as he comes all over himself, eyes on focusing on Dean for the first time all night, his name wrenched out of Sam's mouth and drawn out until it hardly resembles a word anymore.


	8. Priority

They choose each other, the way they always have. Sam ends it for good with Amelia. He'll always care about her, always be grateful to her for being his anchor while he was lost without Dean. She stopped him from drifting away, stopped him from losing himself for good.

He knows he performed the same role for her. They were lost and hurting, and clung to each other to keep from falling apart.

Dean cuts contact with Benny, too. Sam knows it was a big thing for him, and he can't say out loud what it means that Dean would do that.

Dean's hand settles on Sam's thigh as they drink, and Sam puts his over Dean's, squeezing lightly. Neither of them say anything. There's nothing to be said. They both understand what they've given up for each other, and that it'll always be that way. There's nothing that they wouldn't give up for each other.


End file.
